Mutability: Summer
by reishin
Summary: Duo marks time, and Heero learns something new.
1. Mutability: Summer

Title - Mutability: Summer Date: 10.12.02 Notes: Just a little ficlet set in Duo's pov, post everything. Warning: Hints of Heero yearning.  
  
Duo likes it here. He doesn't think he'll ever leave. The sun is harsh and hot and bakes all thoughts right out of his head. The sand feels just right for digging his toes into. And the ocean seasons all his food just the way he likes it, salty and bitter.  
  
Here, the people don't care about the braid or the little or not so little scars unavoidably exposed. They don't care how shit faced Duo gets as long as he pays for his drinks beforehand and considerately pukes away from the rest of the customers.  
  
And he does, get shit faced that is. He hasn't thrown up in quite a while. Waste not, want not. But that's some line from Duo's past.  
  
He doesn't want to think about it. So he drinks a little more, thinks a little less, and gradually makes his way away from the cheerful little bar.  
  
He keeps thinking about not thinking. Avoiding choices, people, thoughts, it's second nature. Here, people don't care if Duo drinks until he can't remember his name much less where he lives and isn't that convenient since that patch of sand looks so very inviting. He sits down, wiggling slightly and getting more intimate with the sands than is necessarily comfortable. He finds that the beach is a perfect cushion if enough of an imprint is made. He makes sure to lie down ever so carefully, with his face covered so that the sun won't intrude on his sleep, and settles in for the night.  
  
**  
  
Despite all considerable effort, the light is bright enough to wake him up. He guesses that some kind soul, or potential scavenger, took the floppy hat off his face to see whether or not he was still breathing. It won't be the first time. He yawns, stretches, and notices the familiar fuzzy taste in his mouth. He smacks his lips a few times. He truly hopes that no furry animal did crawl in there because it's the sort of death that nothing on this green blue grey planet deserves. He's pretty sure he can say the same for the colonies. He contemplates what to have for breakfast and reaches for the bottle he's sure was pressed into his kidneys for most of the night. It's empty, and he's glad and wonders how long it'll be before he buys another one. Not that he's an alcoholic.  
  
No, most days he gets along just fine without that little burn of Lethe. But sometimes the sky sets in just that right shade of blue or a child screams too close or someone just stands with their head straight forward and shoulders set and well. He's only human after all.  
  
And isn't that just a scream. Maxwell's little demon is human. All it took was a home, a war, a pair of hideous mustard sneakers, and his own stupidity. Run, hide and never lie.  
  
Human and he's sitting on a beach accompanied by only a five piece anvil ensemble pounding between his ears instead of the usual Wagnerian worthy set up and that beautiful sunrise to enjoy. There could be worse things that this. He knows it.  
  
He likes it here just fine.  
  
Mutability  
  
1  
  
The flower that smiles today Tomorrow dies; All that we wish to stay, Tempts and then flies What is this world's delight? Lightning that mocks the night, Brief even as bright.  
  
2  
  
Virtue, how frail it is! Friendship how rare! Love, how it sells poor bliss For proud despair! But we, though soon the fall, Survive their joy and all Which ours we call.  
  
3  
  
Whilst skies are blue and bright, Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day, Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou - and from thy sleep Then wake to weep.  
  
-Percy Byron Shelley 


	2. Mutability: Autumn

Mutability: Autumn  
Notes: counter fic to Mutability: Summer and post EW. Beta'ed by maki *loves her*  
  
Movements that were deliberate yet weren't. A touch of a shoulder, the half embrace of arms, the warmth of thigh to thigh felt even through jeans, all of these were casual touches from a close partner and friend. They were things that were expected, avoiding contact was a stranger idea that letting it be.  
  
Except that they weren't casual. They were a deliberate invasion on his senses, a campaign to heighten his already alert state. Heero could feel the deliberation behind each advance and see the weight of it in Duo's eyes. He wanted something.  
  
The frustration at his inability to understand was laughable now.  
  
Now that he had time.  
  
Now, he had nothing more than time. Time to straighten the shoulders he had not realized were straining, to clear eyes that were likewise shuttered, and to breathe in and deepen his perceptions. The world shifted by fractions every moment he did this. The presence of Duo near him was a constant. Heero had never felt an urge to see if his friend was by his side, not until the feel of him started to fade.  
  
Certain realizations had begun filtering in, this was but one of the triggers. Months at a hospital, more time as Relena's shadow, and a year as a student before Heero began edging away from the comfortable. The idea of a partner was easier to define but was not as satisfying for the definition, not anymore.  
  
  
It took more courage to correspond actions to what he saw and what he remembered. Heero supposed he could be forgiven these things, taking time for granted was one of them; he was only human.  
  
He was human with a choice to make, a choice he hadn't even realized had been given to him. And the more Heero thought about it, the more he thought it wasn't a choice - not really. The world was laid out before him, but there was only one conceivable path.  
  
So Heero braced his shoulders as a chill wind buffeted him forward and let out a breath as if expelling demons. He started walking. It was going to be a perfect fall afternoon. He hoped that somewhere Duo was enjoying the day as well.  
  
end. 


End file.
